Posted on May 31, 2010 in Body Language Dentition Neurology
My jaw aches very subtly, as if it were grieving for the tooth, its lost child of the bone. A broad hole spans the reach from cheek to tongue, a hole that’s getting filled in with flesh. In a few weeks, there will be a pink, flat spot between the bicuspid and the second molar. The pain will be mostly gone except when a large chunk of cruchiness falls in the gap.
I wish my fingers were not so invisible. Lately, the little and ring fingers of the left hand have balked at the simple tasks I once employed them for. Typing leads them astray: the little finger seems to sometimes lose its memory for the location of the “A” key and reaches too far, hitting the caps lock instead. This is especially bad on the laptop — which I am not using now. More distressing is the deficit I experience when I seek to button my pants. For no reason I can fathom, this is a difficult task at times. I have to put an extra effort into the wrist to get it done. The thumb of my right hand pushes the button through the hole while the left struggles to hold the hole in proper alignment.
Everywhere I look for shortcuts, for ways to avoid over-laboring my digits.
I don’t remember much of the content, but I do know that I have been dreaming a lot of doctors recently.